


Polaroid

by darlingDesires



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: David ForgotTM about Jasper, Except they're teenagers, So yeah, Spooky, halloween drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 09:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12208911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingDesires/pseuds/darlingDesires
Summary: “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, gripping the camera until his knuckles were white, “I didn’t know anybody lived here, I was," he paused, mind racing, "I’m taking picture reference for my photography class, and one of my classmates told me that this house was abandoned, and-”The boy laughed softly, waving up a pale hand. His nose scrunched upwards with his smile. “It’s okay, dude, it’s okay! Don’t worry about it too much, I don’t live here.”





	Polaroid

**Author's Note:**

> Halloween's near!

David pressed the pads of his hands into the wood paneling, drifting the old oak doors closed. The ceiling towered above him like a guardian, intricate swirls encasing the room in a silver and maroon glove. Dangling from the center was a mess of iron bars and crystals vaguely resembling a chandelier, though it looked more like a sculpture of bones than a decorative element. The quiet and undisturbed house was only broken by David's clunky footsteps and the click of the shutter.

Fwk-chhh. David put the undeveloped polaroid in his over-the-shoulder satchel.

Soft and faded red carpet lined the staircase. An indiscernible textured noise emitted as the teen’s clunky boots stepped. Paintings, portraits, photographs, miscellaneous documents and the like lined the walls in a meticulous pattern an untrained eye might call eclectic. Dim lighting from well-worn circuits and a failing lightbulb cast odd and distorted shadows against the hall, emanating an eerie feeling that David couldn’t shake.

Fwk-chhh. He slid the new and fresh picture into the side of his bag.

He stepped into the dining room. Lit candles dripped their way to the table as rusted candelabras pushed them up to the ceiling. He stopped in his tracks, holding in a tight breath as the lit candle flickered about. He silenced his flashlight, feeling as though the stock lighting ruined the feel of the house. A newfound silence crept its way into the room only to be broken again by a soft piano melody. The gears within David’s head stopped turning. He heard the sound of shoes against the carpet, then realized that the hushed steps were his own. The door to the next room shifted open beneath his palms.

The room was small. It was painted a comfortable off-white, untouched, as if it was impervious to the weathers of time. The only object in it was a purely black piano, and a winding sconce balancing at the edge. The boy seated on the bench seemed to dance across the clavier, ghosting the piano keys, and paying no mind to the precariously stacked sheet music displayed in front of him. It was as if David was witness to a one-man symphony, written and composed especially for him, and  _ only _ for him. He dared not move his feet again, for fear that his steps would cut short the haunting refrain.

Fwk-chhh. The gentle noise was enough to stop the music. David wished he hadn’t, slipping the undeveloped picture into his back pocket.

The pianist turned to face the newcomer. His hair was a sandy beach, and his eyes were an ocean, twinkling with mystery and something David couldn’t quite identify.

David’s face colored a red almost as deep as his hair. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, gripping the camera until his knuckles were white, “I didn’t know anybody lived here, I was," he paused, mind racing, "I’m taking picture reference for my photography class, and one of my classmates told me that this house was abandoned, and-”

The boy laughed softly, waving up a pale hand. His nose scrunched upwards with his smile. “It’s okay, dude, it’s okay! Don’t worry about it too much, I don’t live here.” Something about his disposition made David feel safe and calm, relaxed almost. Like the feeling when hugging a stuffed bear.

“Do you care that I took your picture? My finger slipped,” he held up his camera, “you know how hairpin shutters are,” David forced out of his throat what was supposed to be a laugh but sounded rather akin to asphyxiation.

The boy’s facial expression shifted, eyebrows softly moving upwards, lips tugging sideways, shoulders scrunching gently. Something about his disposition made David think back to times of familiar and comfortable things. Like autumn, the smell of pinecones, the sound of running water. “No, not at all! Gosh, I’m flattered, actually.”

“I really like your pianoing.” Pianoing? Is that the best he could come up with? Yes, yes it was. “Er… piano playing?” He got a laugh in response, and David couldn’t help but laugh along with the teen. Something about his disposition was so utterly charming and whimsical.

“Thanks, D-” He seemed to cut himself off, mouth slipping into what could almost be a lopsided frown. “Thanks.”

A clock chimed in the distance, and the boy looked over his shoulder, rising from the bench with a short sigh. “I have to go. But I hope I’ll see you around?”

Before David could answer, the other was gone, leaving him in a state of confusion and longing. He hadn’t even heard the door swing closed. The once-comforting room now seemed eerie and dark, candle flicker illuminating and twisting the shadows around the room.

David reached into his pocket, gently taking the picture out and bringing it over to the light. It had finished developing throughout their exchange, everything was exactly as he had remembered it to be…

… except the seat in front of the piano was empty.


End file.
